‘Are
you surviving the apocalypse?’ a friend asked me recently. With the pandemic,
life has changed so quickly, that ‘apocalyptic’ may not be a bad word to
describe it.
In
its original sense, an apocalypse is a form of ancient literature. You can read
hundreds of apocalypses, but by far the best known is the Apocalypse of John,
the last book of the New Testament. In English it's usually known as the
Revelation of John, or the Book of Revelation.
Sadly,
the book is nowadays cited by right-wing types who use its symbolism without
context to justify anything from uncritical support for the Israeli government
to ludicrously precise predictions of the end of the world.
Unsurprisingly,
this makes many Christians nervous of Revelation.
This
is a shame. The various images of Revelation revolve around a conflict between
the powers of the world on the one hand and Jesus and his followers on the
other. Throughout history, Revelation has inspired people resisting oppression.
A
central image is the ‘beast’ and his power: ‘no one can buy or sell who does
not have the mark ... of the beast’ (13,17). Virtually all scholars interpret
the beast as representative of the Roman Empire. By extension it stands for all
powers who set themselves up in the place of God, powers whose authority
becomes so normal that people ask, ‘Who is like the beast, and who can fight
against it?’ (13,4). This is the sort of authority whose supporters portray
their critics as ‘unrealistic’ for suggesting anything could be different.
The
world's powers today also seek to take God's place. We are told we must protect
‘national security’ and ‘not upset the markets’. Markets and nation-states have
become idols requiring human sacrifice. In reality, they are systems created by
people, and people can organise things differently if we choose.
This
conflict is visible in clashes over how to respond to COVID-19, often
representing a choice between the value of all human life and the idols of ‘the
economy’.
Revelation
is full of violent imagery. But I suggest it portrays violence only to reject
it. A conqueror appears, at first described as a lion, but the ‘lion’ is
quickly revealed to be a lamb. This is Jesus, the lamb who was killed, whose
death and resurrection save people ‘from every tribe and language and people
and nation’ (5, 5-1). It is not a violent, roaring lion that brings salvation
but a loving, wounded lamb.
This
is not to say that there is nothing problematic about Revelation. As John of
Patmos struggled with the nightmarish visions he experienced, so we must
grapple with the text that he wrote.
At
the centre of the Apocalypse is a message of hope. Not the hope found in
platitudes and trite images, but the hope of a Messiah whose triumph over injustice
is assured, a triumph that the beast cannot understand, because it comes about
through non-violence, and through love.
***
Each
day, we will post a short article by one of Darton, Longman and Todd’s amazing
authors, offering a personal reflection on our current situation in life.
Sometimes this will be written with reference to one of their books, and
sometimes about how they are living in response to the coronavirus and our
current world situation. We hope it will give you a taste of the depth and
diversity of DLT’s list – books for heart, mind and soul that aim to meet the
needs and interests of all.
No comments:
Post a Comment